Retro Wars

Three steps in and I took two bullets to the chest. Thank God for high quality body armor. Didn’t save me from getting knocked on my ass and left struggling to breathe.

Gasping for air, I forced myself to crawl to a nearby stall and find some cover before I took a look at my chest. I had kevlar and plates rated to stop rifle rounds, but it looked like I been hit with pistol shots. Fairly low caliber ones at that, fortunately, so it didn’t feel like any ribs were broken.

I also noticed there weren’t any more shots coming, yet.

Glaring as I thought it through, I grabbed a little metal bucket lying nearby and threw it at the door, making it clang dully as it hit. Instantly more bullets hammered that area. He was blind, but it seemed he was shooting mostly from the sound and last known positions, like where the door was.

Good, so he’s down, but not for long. Same with me though. I thought, getting my air back, and now very sore. Tricky little bastard.

I heard some metal shuffling along in the rafters overhead, and whirled around, aiming my shotgun up. I opened fire, blowing holes in the ceiling, and then saw the little metal punk scurry towards the stairs, squealing. I couldn’t help but grin as he headed towards the stairs.

“Ground floor coming up!” I shouted, pumping and blasting as he swung through the rafters like a money, blasting back at me with bullets and little metal sharrukin, of all things. “We have lots of hay. Sales on yard equipment. And a buy one get one free fire sale on crazy space robots!”

“I’m not a bargain bin sales item you flesh bag insect!” the weed-whacker snapped back, sounding indignant. “I’m a holiday special!”

“Yeah, a special brand of cleanup on isle sudden death!” I retorted, dodging around a wooden beam as he blasted more random weapons at me, still dancing around the rafters like a little pet monkey.

“Oh come on!” he shouted in his high pitched little voice, whirling around and forcing me to keep moving as he peppered my position with tiny little missiles, which blew a nearby beam in half. “That joke was lame!”

“Got you to move didn’t it?” I replied as I half sprinted, half crawled away from the mini explosions. Taking cover behind a beat up old mower, I popped up and blasted at him, and the general area around him with slug blasts, one clipping him and knocking him to the ground. But he wasn’t knocked out of the game.

Yet.

“I demand better quality banter from the part-time minions-for-hire that attack me!” he snapped back, popping up off the ground, and I finally got a good look at the little punk. The long bar of the weed-whacker had split into two long arms, with the engine block in the middle acting like the main body. He really did remind me of a child’s stick figure drawing of a monkey with long arms, and no legs.

Of course, the end of his arms had the spinning plastic ‘blades’ of the weed-whackers, and his main body had several guns and rocket all popping off from it.

He was dangerous all right.

He was also ridiculous.

And frankly, in my own opinion, downright stupid.

“Wow.” I muttered, eyeing him as I lined up my shot, even as he turned to glare at me and level some new weapons at me. “You really are pathetic!”

“You arrogant bug!” he shouted, flaring up at the insult. “How dare you…!”

Whatever he’d been about to say didn’t matter, since I promptly blew his head apart. I then quickly walked over, and proceeded to blast his main body, such as it was, several more times, making sure he was down for the count.

He was.

Taking a moment to gasp for breath, I just stood there, covered in hay, sweat, splinters, and worked on breathing.

I was alive, he was dead.

Job done, check to be cashed.

However, my chest hurt, I’d nearly been blown up, shot, gutted, and frankly, I needed a second to calm down.

After I’d finally caught my breath, I pulled out my knife, bent down, and started dissecting the little bastards corpse. The energy sources that powered these guys, what most referred to as spark-hearts, were worth a lot. Some folks wanted them for the money, some wanted them for their tech. Some just for trophies.

I’d seen all kinds over the years, what with so many of these damn robots coming here, non-stop, for decades. Me, I wanted it for more practical reasons, but it was also like having a pile of gold & silver for a rainy day. No matter the day or the society or the tech, precious metals were always worth something. Same with captured spark-hearts.

So, I quickly pulled him apart, and came out with a glowing tube capped at the end by magnet tech stuff; his ‘heart’ that was the size of a Pepsi can.

“Tricky little bastard,” I muttered, groaning at the pain in my chest, and the ringing in my ears from the explosions. Noise canceling ear protection or no.

My prize collected, I headed out of the barn, eager to be gone, and very eager to start my vacation.

It was a short fight, sure, but intense, and one where the stakes were as high as they could get; life and death.

“I see you earned your reputation,” Field Hand remarked as I half stepped out, half stumbled out of the barn. “I’m surprised.”

“There is no satellite overhead, is there?” I asked, glaring at him. I’d had time to think that through, and I was pretty sure he was just full of it.

“Nope.” he laughed. “I’m retired! Besides, I’m not getting paid to go around killing dangerous creatures. That’s your job. And a job well done it is!”

“Little punk was quick,” I muttered, groaning as I walked past him, flipping him the bird the whole time as I did of course. Damn lazy tractor.

“There was a reason he’d survived picking fights with me,” Field Hand chuckled. “But taking him on while he was trapped inside a barn limited what he could do. Nice work.”

“Screw you,” I growled back, heading to my car, and stubbornly ignoring the laughing space robot disguised as a tractor behind me.

I stowed my gear, properly, stowed the little lunatics ‘heart’ in a special container, crawled into my rental, and just sat for a moment. It had been a long day, and a long year. Both for me personally and the planet in general. But now, I could indulge in a vacation.

As soon as I got paid, of course.

But then: vacation.

I was getting ready to pull out when Larry stepped out onto the porch, saw me, smiled, and waved me inside.

I didn’t get it at first, until his wife came out behind him, holding a large plate of food. Even from here, inside my car, I could tell it was mouth watering. Well, a few more minutes couldn’t hurt. I thought to myself, smiling, as I got out and headed up to the house.